


Fantasy Man

by TheLetterQ



Series: Violence Purifide [4]
Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:02:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLetterQ/pseuds/TheLetterQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cross-posted to My LJ, marvelfanfiction.com and a whole slew of LJ communities.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fantasy Man

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to My LJ, marvelfanfiction.com and a whole slew of LJ communities.

Title: Fantasy Man  
Rating: R  
Fandoms: Marvel comics  
Wordcount: 726  
Characters: X-23, Deadpool  
Synopsis: Sequel to "[Snickers](http://anarchicq.livejournal.com/159086.html)". After a training session, Laura thinks about the man she met that made her laugh.  
Warnings: Implied masturbation, self harm.  
Notes: Cross-posted to My LJ, marvelfanfiction.com and a whole slew of LJ communities.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters.

X-23 pulled her claws free of the shredded remains of the pre-programmed automaton. The sound of metal scraping metal was shrill in the air, the smell of her own sweat was salty and the thrumming of her heart filled her ears. It was time to take a break. She looked down at her hand as she began to retract her claws, but the view made her hesitate. Those were the two claws that pierced _his_ eyes.  
Who _was_ that?  
Deadpool. He called himself Deadpool.  
But if she was Laura Kinney, and Hellion was Julian Keller, and Wolverine was James Howlette, then who was Deadpool, really? What was under that mask?

Who was he?

Laura remembered the slightly rotting stench he exuded beneath his uniform. He was healing something under there. Maybe he had scars.  
She remembered the envy he bore when she displayed her claws. He knew Wolverine. The Club? So he was part of the Weapon X project too?  
Another one like her? So, he 'got' her?  
Deadpool was potentially someone who 'understood'.  
Someone who understood her and made her laugh.  
He did not seem to scare easy, unlike Julian.

Her heart seemed to spasm in excitement as Laura let her imagination run away with her.

Maybe he was tragically scarred by the vile program, and used his comedy as a defense against insecurities, the way she used silence and anger.  
Laura wondered what he would say to her if they were to meet again, and what she would say to him. She wondered if he would make her laugh again.  
She wondered what his laugh sounded like, and then pondered the various options.  
Was it rough, like his speaking voice? Sarcastic and biting like his words? Short and blunt like Logan's? Was it pleasant, like...Laura could not think of a comparison, and pleasant did not seem to match Deadpool's style.

She slung her towel over her shoulder and grabbed her duffel bag before padding to her room, still lost in thought.

It was not as if Laura had never laughed before, only that she rarely did. And never in battle, unless it was bloodthirsty and cruel. Even if she did laugh like that, she could not recall.

Laura kicked off her sneakers and turned on her shower.

Deadpool wore thick gloves, she remembered that. Sturdy but still somehow flexible. She wondered if they added much bulk to his hands, or if they really were that solid. He was a fighter, so they were probably rough and calloused. Then again, he could heal. Maybe they were strong, and smooth. Then again, that too, seemed out of character for the "Merc with a Mouth".

Laura, now nude and stiff from dried sweat, stepped into her shower.  
The water was warm and did well rinsing away her work out. She picked up the soap from the tray and lathered up. Although warm, the water tasted fresh like clear spring water. A perk of having a base in Colorado.

She wondered where he was based, how he got out of Weapon X. She wondered if she should ask Wolverine about him, or would that cause trouble?

Was he a good guy? Probably not because he attacked her unprovoked.

He was a curious man, and he made Laura consider such abstract concepts as one's character. Those sorts of things were useless.

And yet...

Laura gasped as she realized her hand was resting between her thighs, cradling her most sensitive area. She had distractedly gone from cleaning herself to something more, something bad. She had only done this once before, back in the facility, when she was young and growing and needed to feel something good. She was electro-shocked for it.

Quickly, she tore her palm from her sex, frozen for fear of punishment. When none came, she was all the more confused. She stood stone still, waiting for something, anything. Nothing happened.

Laura clenched her teeth, lost in an emotion that was not anger but just as potent. With a flex of her knuckles, she let her claws sprout from the back of her hand, and cruelly swiped the razor edge along her inner thighs. The pain made the pleasurable feeling die, and the soap just made the wounds sting even more.

Two rows.

Four rows.

Six rows.

Four rows because the first cuts had already healed. She sighed, retracting her claws and letting the blood and soap rinse away down the drain as the numbing cuts knitted back together and disappeared.

All clean.

Clean slate.


End file.
